


In Charge

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bruce is a good dad, Cooking, Family Bonding, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Jason Todd is Robin, a tiny bit of angst if you look hard, what happens when Alfred takes a vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 00:05:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11001792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: Jason's book is missing and Alfred's the only one who might have moved it. The problem? Alfred's not home and Bruce is in charge and making lunch, which is a worry much bigger than a missing book.





	In Charge

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a request on Tumblr, you can find me there as Preciousthingsareprecious

Jason lifted a couch cushion revealing dust, a penny, and the race car he thought he’d lost last week. None of which were the book he was looking for. He was sure, one hundred percent sure, that he’d left his copy of The Secret of the Old Mill on the couch the night before. It didn’t matter that he’d searched the room three times already, it had to be there. Nothing could erase the clear image of the blue backed book against the leather of the couch beneath, the only problem was making memory a reality.

He let the cushion fall, tucking it in place with his knee, before turning to frown at the room. He’d tried to keep it tidy as he’d scrambled for his book, but the pile of pillows in the corner and the scattered volumes pulled from the bookshelves told a different story.

Common sense told him to tidy the room before he left to continue his search, but he wanted to find his book. He had to know what happened next, and if he’d figured out the mystery before the Hardy Boys had. His foot moved to take him out of the room but froze there, it didn’t take a detective to figure out the trouble he’d be in if Alfred walked back into the room while he was away.

“Dang it.” He muttered in defeat.

It only took a few minutes to set the room back to Alfred’s standards but Jason felt like it had been much longer. All that good reading time, wasted on some cleaning. He wouldn’t be in this mess if he could just find the book. He knew he hadn’t moved it. Bruce didn’t allow books at the dinner table, not after Jason dropped one in his soup when Bruce’s questions about school had made him jump.

Alfred. He would know where it was. He was the last one in the living room last night. Jason spun and rushed out of the room his steps purposed this time. It was still early, and if he was fast enough he might still catch Bruce and Alfred finishing breakfast.

He slid into the kitchen, his socks guiding him on the tile and into the usually bustling room. Alfred was nowhere to be seen. He must have missed him by a few minutes. That was ok, he knew the butler’s schedule by heart. He’d learned it in his first few weeks at the manor when he’d needed to be sure he had a way to leave if things got bad. Now it was more because he liked knowing where everyone was going to be, it meant he could help or hide if he had to.

Four locations later and Jason was starting to panic a little bit. His worry over his book was forgotten by the time he made it to the library itself. There was no trace of Alfred to be found in any of his usual places. Jason had even checked his room to make sure he hadn’t slept in or was feeling sick.

Since the day Jason stepped foot into the manor Alfred had been a staple, as much a fixture as the living room clock or the front door. He didn’t just vanish, not without a trace. There wasn’t even a note to tell Jason he might have gone to the store or had left for an emergency.

Come to think of it, Jason hadn’t seen Bruce either. It was Saturday, he should be home. They should have passed each other at least once in the few hours Jason had been awake. Was he alone? Had they forgotten him? Run off on some trip or errand and just left him behind?

It was Jason’s fears come to life: being forgotten. Tucked just behind outright rejection the worry had replaced sleep more nights than he cared to admit. His heartbeat picked up it’s pace, his feet tearing him through the manor, doors flying open. The echo of _Alfred? Alfred!_ Growing more and more panicked every time the name left his mouth.

He stopped where he’d started, the living room. A wave of hesitancy fell over him then, standing in the hallway outside the room, the contents hidden behind the wall. If no one was there it meant he really was alone, forgotten, and left behind. He didn’t know if he could face that fact, maybe it was better not knowing.

“Bruce?” The name came out as a whisper as he stepped around the corner.

He didn’t see anyone at first, but the rustle of paper and cloth on leather pulled his attention to the couch. Bruce sat up from where he’d been lounging, a tiny frown on his face.

“Jason? What’s wrong?”

The wave of relief that hit Jason was enough to make him want to rush his adopted father for a hug, but he held back. He didn’t want Bruce thinking less of him for jumping to silly conclusions like being left behind. Of course they hadn’t forgotten him, how long had he been with them now? Six, seven months?

“I’m looking for Alfred. Did he go out?” He asked, trying to keep his tone even and normal.

Bruce shifted, an arm going to rest on the back of the couch. “He’s visiting Julia this weekend.”

He said it like Jason should have known, and he probably should have, but the knowledge did nothing to help fix the unnecessary worry he’d faced minutes prior. He crossed his arms and pouted.

“And how come no one thought to tell me?”

“I did, last night.” Bruce said, eyeing him.

Jason seemed to remember Bruce telling him something last night, but he’d been starting his book and he’d zoned the man out, assuming that if it were important he’d be pulled off to help soon enough. If it wasn’t he’d have more time to read.

“I was reading B! You know I don’t listen when I’m reading.”

Bruce chuckled. “I bet it’s that book that had you looking for Alfred too, did you leave it in here last night?”

“Yeah.” Jason kicked a foot out, and frowned.

If Alfred was gone that meant he had no idea where his book had gone to. He’d have to wait the whole weekend to find out if he was right or not. The reality of two days without Alfred came slowly to Jason’s mind. It wasn’t just his book he’d have to wait for. Without Alfred who was going to cook? Or make sure he was up in the morning? And take care of Bruce? Jason was still learning in the kitchen, and while he’d been good at taking care of his mom, Bruce was a whole different matter.

His guardian stood, looking him over. “I know that look.” he said. “It’ll be fine, you ready for some lunch?”

“Oh no.” Jason said, realizing, “He’s gone and left you in charge.”

One of Bruce’s eyebrows raised, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile. “It does seem that way.”

Jason’s knees wobbled and he let the floor take him, sinking into a puddle, head buried in his hands before he let out a moan. He heard Bruce the next moment, three steps to his side. Then a heavy hand on his back.

“Jay, what’s the matter?” Bruce asked, worry evident in his voice.

“We’re gonna die!” Jason moaned again, “I didn’t think this was going to be how it happened. A heroic battle with the Penguin maybe or a car crash while I saved a kitten, but not this. Anything but this.”

“Unless you’ve released some kind of toxin into the manor I’m pretty sure we’re not going to die without Alfred around.” Bruce’s worry was replaced by light amusement.

Jason’s head jerked up, and he threw his arms out wide at his sides. “You don’t understand, B. You don’t know how you are.” He leveled a look at Bruce, one he hoped told the man he was watching him, and he had no patience for false condolences.

His father rolled his eyes. “We will be fine.” he said again. “Now come on, I’m making lunch with or without you.”

He stepped past Jason and out into the hallway. Jason gave him a few seconds, trying to decide if the man was serious or not before his footsteps began to fade. He jumped up and chased Bruce down the hallway sliding to a walk at his side.

Bruce glanced down at him. “I’m happy to see you’ve joined me.”

Jason rolled his eyes back up. “There’s no way I’m letting you attempt to cook by yourself.”

It was good that he’d chosen to accompany Bruce. It didn’t take long for his fears to once again be realized, though this time it wasn’t the kind that kept him up, it was the very real knowledge of having seen Bruce attempt to cook before. He’d already saved the manor from destruction by turning down the burners on the stove after Bruce set them on high.

“Do you even know what you’re doing”? Jason asked peering into a pot and it’s contents bubbling on the stove.

Bruce huffed from his spot across from Jason, cutting vegetables at the island. “Of course I do. Alfred left recipes.”

Jason pursed his lips looking from his adopted father to the stove and back. “I dunno if that’s going to help.”

Bruce lifted the plate of sliced vegetables he’d finished and carried them over to a waiting pan of cooked chicken next to the pot. “And why wouldn’t it?” he asked dumping the veggies into the pan.

Jason pulled back as the pan sizzled and popped. “First of all, you forgot to salt the water for your pasta.” He pointed at the pot, “And now you’ve overcrowded the pan.” He frowned at the vegetables and chicken squished together.

He probably should have waited for Bruce to answer, but instead he shoved his father gently to the side and took the spoon out of his hand. He scooped the finished chicken bits onto the plate Bruce had just emptied and gave the veggies a good stir.

“The chicken’ll get all rubbery if you leave it with the veggies. And they won’t cook evenly if they don’t have room.” He told him, the words more of a memory than a reprimand to his father.

Alfred had told him the same thing, time and again. Always salt pasta water, it brings out flavor. Never overcook or overcrowd in a pan, things need room to breathe. Seasonings are your friend, but never salt soup before you taste it.

“The recipe doesn’t say any of that.” Bruce said.

Jason turned to see him frowning down at a sheet of paper. It’s once white color was dotted with yellow and a bit of red from being left too close to the stove the last time Jason had tried it. He’d gotten sauce and oil all over it. He’d been worried that Alfred would be mad, but the butler had shrugged and told him it was just something that happened in the kitchen.

“That’s cuz it doesn’t have to.” Jason said, “A lot of it is common sense.”

“Salting pasta water?” Bruce asked, not quite believing.

Jason shrugged. “That’s more of a trick, but it stands. Cooks know these things.” On that note he snatched the salt shaker and added a good pinch to the water. He stirred it in before moving back to the veggies and tossed them a bit, letting the motions Alfred taught him take over his mind for a bit.

He didn’t know when he started, but he found himself ordering Bruce around, first handing over the spoon to have him stir, then sending him for ingredients from the fridge. Soon they were cooking together, working with the same ease they did on patrol.

Bruce leaned against the counter, his spoon scooping some of the sauce from the pot Jason was working on. He reached over to swat at Bruce but missed as the man grinned around his spoon.

“It’s not done yet.” Jason scowled.

“It’s good. Just like Alfred’s.”

Jason felt his ears go red, and he was pretty sure it didn’t have to do with the heat coming off the stove. “Yeah?” he said.

“Yeah.” Bruce smiled at him before going to dip the spoon in a second time.

This time Jason caught it. “No double dipping.”

Bruce leaned back arms raised. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Jason grinned at him. “I was thinking, next time Al leaves he should just leave me in charge, I’m a lot better at this than you are.”

He turned to check on the chicken, leaving Bruce with the thought.

“Are you now?”

Jason was so occupied adding the chicken back to the sauce he missed the warning notes in Bruce’s voice. He hummed. “Yep, I mean without me the kitchen would have burned down how many times now? Three maybe four.”

“If you’re going to be in charge, you need to be ready for anything.” Bruce said.

He set the spoon down to look over the mess on the stove. “If anything involves your cooking I think we’re good.” Jason said, grinning at the food.

He was feeling proud of his success which made him miss the presence getting closing in behind him a moment before he was scooped off the ground, and tucked under Bruce’s arm. He got a ‘Hey!’ out before the tickles started, Bruce’s free hand relentless against Jason’s side.

“No! B!” he said through giggles. “The food, it’ll burn!”

“We’ll be fine, you set all the burners on low.” Bruce said not letting up. “Besides, I’m teaching you how to be in charge. If you can’t survive a tickle battle how can you protect the house?”


End file.
